


Run It

by mspeachykeen2012



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, wontaek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-03 14:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12750249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mspeachykeen2012/pseuds/mspeachykeen2012
Summary: Taekwoon is nothing like Wonshik but that doesn't stop them from meeting one fateful night-- when Taekwoon holds a gun to Wonshik's head and orders his hands up.





	1. Hands

* * *

    

               There was nowhere else to go but.

                Home.

                Even though Wonshik wanted to go anywhere but there, he headed home. It was three am—was that an inappropriate time to be out?

                It didn't matter when he was half asleep, closing then widening his eyes. Trying to stay awake was hard enough and it was not very smart for him to listen to Hongbin. Not tonight, at least.

                The wind rushed through his black hair as he let his arm hang out the window, the street lights flying by him in salute as he drove. It was three am, not a soul out. It was comforting enough to lower his eyes before he realized what he was doing and he inhaled sharply, squeezing the fingers of the hand on the steering wheel. Wonshik wanted to be home, now.

                "Wake up asshole," he cursed himself, slowing at the light that had just turned yellow. Suddenly his foot pressed down and he sped forward, cruising through the red light to the next intersection. Another red light down, the breeze turned into a funnel and made his eyes squint. Goosebumps sprang forward as he tried to make the last light—the last street light before the turn to his house.

                Panic suddenly ran across his skin as Wonshik saw the motorcycle on the side of the road in a blur, the person a gray figure not noticeable enough to remember. But real enough to ease up his foot and he rolled to a stop at the light. The last light.

                The growl of a bike roared to life and then a single light snapped on, the motorcycle zipping out from the shoulder. Perspiration dotted his back as Wonshik watched in his rearview mirror. He couldn't afford another ticket.

                But no lights flashed and the bike rumbled up beside him—too close beside him, his eyes following for as long as the mirror would allow him. Then he looked to the side where the steel came to a halt, engine idling. Looking away from the long man clad in all black, visor included, Wonshik watched the light. Red.

                A minute passed and he could feel the eyes behind the helmet looking at him, too. An unknown feeling washed over him and suddenly, Wonshik wished he had stopped at that first light.

                Metal clicked, a glint reflecting off the barrel as the gun at the end of the man's outstretched arm cocked.

                "Hands in the air."

                Wonshik closed his eyes finally and all it took was another second before his palms raised into the area above his shoulders. There wasn't fear, at least not in the classic sense. Was he going to die by the hands of a motorcycle man with a gun?

                But he complied because he wasn't scared. And that was scary.

                "Wallet."

                "I—"

                "Wallet," the small voice sounded, a little deeper this time. Like a warning of sorts, like a cautionary tale.

                Slowly, Wonshik lowered his right hand and opened his eyes, the pair sliding over to the assailant, the visor reflecting the now green light. But it was three am—not a soul out.

                Grabbing onto the leather in the back pocket of his jeans, Wonshik contemplated the situation. He could book it… But he had always been indecisive when it came time to make a decision. In this situation, his mind warred with the sweat pouring from his back saying the man dressed in black, pointing the nose of a firearm into his car, was not a threat. He could floor it and turn right and then—

                "If I have to ask one more time," the stranger growled, soft voice betraying the venom. But the cold of the metal suddenly pressing into his cheek was harsh enough.

                "H-here," Wonshik stuttered, opening the wallet with trembling fingers. Reaching for the bills—a lousy couple hundred won—he started to remove them.

                Hands snatched the entire thing and Wonshik cursed, almost reaching for it. That had his ID, what did a thief need with his ID?

                Pocketing the leather billfold, the gun dug into his jaw for a second more before the tall man leaned back into his bike, hunching over as he kicked it awake, the idling rumble raising to a fever pitch. A zip sounded out as the stranger disappeared into the darkness beyond the lights, the noise fading until it was gone.

                Wonshik sat there, his heel still digging into the brake pedal. He watched the night, his chest heaving in breaths he didn't recognize as his own. The wind whipped by his suddenly glassy eyes. Blinking, he felt the tears start to pool and his brow furrowed. He hadn't felt like crying.

                It was just that he had never had a gun in his face before.

                He had never been robbed before.

                A lone honk behind him startled him aware and he jumped, slamming his foot into the gas pedal, his compact car screeching forward. He hooked the right, towards home, but his eyes followed the straight track the thief had taken, blinking only when he could look no longer.

                Pulling into his driveway a moment later, Wonshik stared at his hands. They shook—now with fury.

                "Motherfucking son of a bitch."

 

                - - -

 

                "One, two, three…"

                Three hundred won? What the fuck was that going to get Taekwoon?

                Throwing the bills onto his hotel bed, unmade and a mess of sheets, he started going through the cards. Cursing when he saw a couple with a chip on them, he finally felt the inkling a smile when he spotted the old credit card.

                Nimble fingers slid out the driver's license, turning it around. Idiot had signed it.

                Plastic between his middle and forefinger, Taekwoon flipped it over to the front. A smiling idiot.

                "Kim Wonshik," he whispered, eyes glued to the picture on the laminated card.

                Dropping the license, Taekwoon stretched out of his shirt and started the shower.

                Kim Wonshik was the last thing on his mind before he stepped under the spray, letting the water wash away the shame.


	2. In

                "Where's the wallet?"

                Taekwoon wanted to say that he didn't need the actual wallet—Sanghyuk had the cards in hand. But he stayed silent and looked the other way instead.

                "Doesn't matter," Sanghyuk murmured as he thumbed through the plastic credit cards. Taekwoon watched out of the corner of his eyes as the younger man paused on the credit card without the chip. Those were easy to replace the stripe on—needed a good couple hours start though. Never the less, he'd get good money for that one.

                "Only one?"

                Cocking his head, Taekwoon leaned against his bike, crossing his long arms, leather jacket stretching across his back. It was night and chilly, but he wore the jacket more for protection than anything else.

                "Those are rare these days."

                Sanghyuk had expressive eyes and when he smiled, they did too. "You're right about that," he mumbled, scanning each credit card meticulously. "Do you have—"

                Kim Wonshik's driver's license was thrust forward but when Sanghyuk tried to take it, Taekwoon didn't let go. He met the younger man's eyes.

                "I'm keeping it. You can take a picture of the signature."

                Sanghyuk's shoulders squared and Taekwoon answered by straightening to his full height. The younger man's already low eyes fell. Then he took his phone out, allowing Taekwoon to turn the card around. The flash reflected off the plastic and for a moment, in that dark alley, among the grime and the grit, there was light flooding every corner.

                Taekwoon didn't miss the man with the bat in the corner, though he had seen him earlier in the shadows.

                "Why do you want to keep it?" Then immediately, Sanghyuk stopped. Almost, as if there was a reason behind it, there was another flash and for a moment Taekwoon saw a smile on his face. "It's not any of my business—I'm just the runner."

                They left each other with the promise that in a couple days Taekwoon would have more merchandise for Sanghyuk and whoever he was working for. Sanghyuk bid him goodbye graciously—Taekwoon could appreciate that. Not everyone was so friendly.

                Turning towards his bike, the metal coated in black camouflaged against the dark buildings. Reaching out into the darkness, he touched the handle. The 500,000 Won in his pocket burned slightly as he sat down and turned the ignition. That was much better than the couple hundred won he had lifted from Wonshik. Cards were where the money was.

                Kicking the clutch, he started slowly out of the alleyway, Sanghyuk and his lookout long gone. They traveled by foot—there was a need to move silently.

                Heading onto the main streets, black eyes watched through the black visor as he zipped through the restaurant district and into downtown. He had business there as well— though he had nothing left to sell. He'd have to change that.

 

\- - - 

 

                Wonshik cursed as the toe of his shoe got caught on a raised stone platform, his coffee spilling from his hands and onto the unfinished tile.

                "Fuck," he growled, looking around him to find something to clean up the mess. The laborers in what would soon be a kitchen looked up. One was peeved, the other was mocking him. He cursed them both.

                "Forever clumsy," Jaehwan teased as he came up behind Wonshik with a paper towel from the new granite countertop. "Why are you in here? I thought I saw Hakyeon outside—he's pissed."

                Wonshik knew. Hakyeon was a perfectionist. It rewarded him handsomely but it was quite the burden to work with. And Wonshik, being his first choice in a project manager, sometimes dreaded signing a contract with Mr. Cha, realtor/renovator extraordinaire. Short deadlines, long hours and plenty of meticulous inspections always made for a stressful job. But Wonshik was good and Hakyeon could appreciate that.

                Plus, the pay was pretty amazing as well. It had allowed Wonshik to buy his first house.

                Running a hand through his ink black hair, Wonshik walked out with Jaehwan, Hakyeon's executive assistant, towards said man. The weather was amazing, not a cloud in the sky and he couldn't help but look up when he stepped out on the half completed patio. They were under a particularly tight turn around so everything was happening at once, whether it made sense or not.

                "Wonshik-ah, did you spill something?"

                The younger man's eyebrows shot up but he then followed Hakyeon's eyes and saw the brown stain on his plain white shirt. He started to smile when Jaehwan interrupted, asking the oldest man if he needed anything from the spray insulation team before they headed out.

                "No. But ask them why it took them twice as long to get here today?"

                Wonshik wanted to ask what difference that would even make since they were there now, had done their job and were about to leave. But it was more of the principle to Hakyeon.

                "Hakyeon," Wonshik called when he realized the older man was starting to walk off. The other turned at his name. "I need to buy a couple of supplies."

                A perfectly curved eyebrow arched. "Ok," the older man said slowly, not catching on. "What does that mean to me?"

                "I don’t have any money." Quickly, trying to explain himself before Hakyeon started down a road neither wanted to travel, Wonshik took a step forward. "My wallet was stolen last night."

                Now both eyebrows were raised and Hakyeon started towards him. "Stolen?"

                Flushing, Wonshik looked down, hands immediately coming down to his work belt—any reason not acknowledge the embarrassment or the anger. He could just picture the prick, on his slick bike, the gun pointed straight at him.

                He remembered that fucking voice.

                "What happened?"

                "Nothing."

                Hakyeon laughed in that insisting tone, the one that taunted him. "Did you leave it somewhere? Lost doesn't equal stolen—"

                "I was mugged. At a stoplight."

                The older man with the soft caramel skin stopped mid tease, his eyes widening slightly. What replaced the criticism was protectiveness.

                "What the… At a stop light?" Hakyeon, now much closer, tried to catch Wonshik's eyes. He stepped away though he noticed the worry lines in the other's forehead.

                "I'm ashamed… and angry, I am not hurt. And the fucker took everything so I don’t even have a license to drive with."

                It was to dispel that mothering look that Hakyeon carried around, whipping it out whenever he felt like someone messed with something of his. They weren't necessarily friends but Hakyeon cared for Wonshik just as he cared for Jaehwan.

                "I heard there's been an increase of those lately," the middle man chimed in, swiping his ash brown hair away from his eyes. "Motorcycle?"

                Wide eyes caught the slightly older man. "Yeah. Last night, I saw him on the side of the road—"

                "Don't tell me you stopped to help him!"

                Wonshik's cheeks darkened and he looked around him. " _No_ , Hakyeon. And stop yelling, would you?"

                Hakyeon blushed.

                "I saw him as I was driving by. He pulled out right behind me and I thought he was a cop." Before the conversation could continue, Wonshik licked his lips and looked to Hakyeon expectantly. "My new card won't come in the mail for a couple days so I don't have any money. All I need is a couple thousand—we're missing an electrical panel switch and the connections. I didn't realize they wanted to wire out to the shack in the back."

                "I didn't know that myself."

                There was irritation in Hakyeon's voice so Wonshik just hoped he felt the same and took pity on Wonshik. Lips twitched as he saw the oldest man dig into his pocket, taking out his billfold. The black haired man gulped at the amount of notes. It pays to be the boss.

                "Here." Then, "and here, take some more, just in case." Soft eyes watched him as he pocketed the cash. "Do you need Jaehwan to get you anything?"

                A hand immediately raised and Hakyeon nodded, but looked away. It was not wise to hurt a man's pride.

                "Did you report it to the police?"

                That was Jaehwan as they started back towards the front, Wonshik patting down his front pockets to find his keys. Looking over, he shook his head, finger hooking around his car key ring.

                "And say what? A man on a motorcycle stole my wallet?" Shaking his head once more, he trained his eyes forward. "They can't do anything if I don't know even know what he looks like."

 

\- - - 

 

                It was a week of staring at Kim Wonshik's photo that finally moved Taekwoon to get out of the hotel and ride over to the address on the license. He hadn't meant to—he knew it was strange. But for some reason, looking at the card in his hand felt relaxing.

                Perhaps it was because Wonshik was smiling.

                Running the pad of his thumb over the worn laminate, Taekwoon raised his eyes. He watched the house that was small and stationed way too close to its neighbor, a trend set by overzealous money hungry developers that wanted to eat every square meter of land they could. But this one was quaint and simple, powerlines running from across the street to its peak, the two stories bright though only one floor was illuminated. That must mean Wonshik was home.

                Or someone was.

                Flipping down his midnight visor, Taekwoon rode off down the street.

                The next time he visited the younger man's home, he parked his motorcycle a couple blocks away and walked. Climbing up the stone retaining wall across the street, Taekwoon sat, cross legged and silent. The sunset was behind him and it casted a ghostly orange shadow on Wonshik's house. Said man didn't come home that night so Taekwoon eventually left.

                On his way home, he stuck a couple up and ended with some jewelry along with over 200,000 won in notes. It had turned out to be a good night.

                Eventually, Taekwoon found himself coming to Wonshik's house on the way to a run or on the way back from one. Most times, he just passed by it. Sometimes he'd stop and sit. For some reason, it calmed an itch within him to see the lights on in Wonshik's house.

                He often day dreamed about what Wonshik did inside. He ordered take out a lot but were there days where he'd cook himself a meal? Did he eat alone often?

                What did he do for a living? He had two cars—a small sedan and a large truck, both parked on the street. There were tools in the back sometimes and one desperate night, while Wonshik had run into the house to grab something and carelessly left a couple of power tools in the bed of the truck, Taekwoon was tempted. He could sell that _quick_.

                But he didn't touch them, just watched from a couple houses over, further along the wall. He'd do that when one of the cars wasn't there, meaning Wonshik would be coming home (and there was a possibility of being seen). In those moments, Taekwoon didn't want to risk it.

               Wonshik had bounded out of the door with his keys swinging in his hands, plain black t-shirt stretching over his chest, his blue jeans dusted with white and he looked like… He looked so… normal.

                Taekwoon knew he was stalking the guy, knew that this was not normal behavior. But he couldn't help it as he let his motorcycle stall down the street. Feeling the gravel crunch beneath his boots, he dug his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Sometimes the sun would warm him, normally though, he would get to Wonshik's after the sky had gone dark, when he knew he'd be home and Taekwoon could just watch and think.

                Tonight was different.

                For the first time in the month Taekwoon had been watching him, Wonshik was not alone.

                He could distantly hear their laughter, the noise beneath his sole ceasing as his steps slowed—then stopped. Wonshik was not in his usual dingy t-shirt, work jeans, and scuffed Timberlands. Tonight he wore dark denim and his shirt was nice, fashionable.

                Before dark eyes could even register how attractive Wonshik looked in the shroud of his porch light, the person—the man he was with grabbed his hands, pulling him in uncoordinated direction, their chests meeting as they stumbled into each other.

                Their mouths met right in the threshold. Taekwoon's stomach gripped painfully, his eyes a millisecond behind the reaction as they narrowed.

                It felt…

                Hands carded through Wonshik's short hair, slices of beige highlighted in the jet black. Taekwoon couldn't see where Wonshik's hands were.

                It felt like…

                The stranger was pressed against the door and Taekwoon's nostrils flared.

                It felt like that was supposed to be him.

 

\- - - 

 

                Hongbin moaned hotly, drawing in the night air as Wonshik bit at the vertex between his neck and his shoulders. Hands clawed at his body in response.

                "Open the fucking door," Hongbin breathed, knowing they probably wouldn't make it past the foyer.

                "I'm trying," Wonshik muttered, left hand trying to find his keys but he was getting distracted and there was a moment where entering the house was not a priority. Hands slipped beneath Hongbin's shirt.

                " _Wonshik_."

                Finally finding the right key, he deftly inserted it in, about to twist his wrist when he felt his best friend's nails dig into his shoulders.

                "Who the fuck is _that_?"

                Leaning back, Wonshik blinked at the younger man who was staring over his shoulder. Not staring—he was captivated by something beyond them and when his eyes tore away from whatever it was, Wonshik gave him a curious look.

                "What's wrong?"

                Hongbin's mouth closed slowly, his hands relaxing as they slipped to Wonshik's waist. He then found his friend's eyes.

                "There was someone across the street."

                Craning his neck, Wonshik looked at the sidewalk adjacent to his house. There was the concrete wall and beyond that was what would eventually be a parking lot, but for now was just rubble. He could feel Hongbin's chest as he took in a breath.

                "No one's there," Wonshik assured his friend. Holding onto him, he grabbed his key and easily let them into the house. But when Hongbin wasn't so easily guided, he too watched the empty street. "Whoever it was, they're gone now."


	3. The

                Taekwoon looked at the notes in his hand, then up towards the large, multiacreage building.

                The mall.

                He hadn't been inside one since he was a child, his sisters dragging him from shop to shop.

                Taking a slow breath in, he tightened his fist and started forwards.

                There were so many people around, so much chatter in his ear and he felt a smile quirk his lips. He had never missed the growl of his bike so much in his life. How absurd.

                Walking through the nicely placed pavilion, he continuously looked up towards the second floor. He didn't know what store he was even looking for, but he didn't want to miss it all the same. Surely there were those mannequins in the storefronts still. Catching a glimpse of one in a nice button down shirt and tan pants, Taekwoon stood in front of it.

                Then his eyes fell to his own ripped jeans, dirty and scraped knees peeking through. His shirt was worn, one of very few. Living a transient life didn't lend itself to a large suitcase. Deep brown looked back to the outfit in front of him.

                It wasn't him, it was almost laughable that he was even considering spending his money on it.

                But Wonshik wasn't like him and he didn't think he could ever face him looking like himself. Running a hand through his ear length hair, he twisted at the bleach blonde locks. He had an inch of oil black roots and he had noticed the stares, tucking it behind his ear.

                The man Wonshik had been with was clean cut. Taekwoon was not.

                Taking a deep breath, Taekwoon went into the store.

                That was all about to change.

 

\- - -           

               

 

                Wonshik drummed his fingers against the bar top, checking his watch one more time. Hongbin was supposed to be meeting him at the bar, though he wasn't coming alone. Jaehwan was going to be joining them and Wonshik didn't rule that out as to why he had been sitting alone for the past 10 minutes.

                Looking around and then back up to the TV screen, he sighed.

                But his aggravation was interrupted by a swift shove to his back, his chest coming towards the bar, his immediate reaction to find who the hell just pushed him.

                Instead, all he saw was a young man looking down at his beer stained shirt and pants, a shattered glass at his feet. Someone beside him apologized but moved on quickly in the crowd, the sea of people allowing him to disappear easily. The man shook his head, short brunette hair falling back into place when he looked up at Wonshik. His eyes widened for a wonderful second before his face fell into an embarrassed smile.

                "I'm so sorry, I was—"

                Wonshik blinked.

                The man's brow paused before furrowing, quickly melting into another congenial grin. "No hard feelings right?"

                Wonshik blinked again, feeling a shot of adrenaline soar through his body. His voice was familiar, soft and slightly sweet.

                It didn't quite fit.

                Realizing he was just standing there, Wonshik shook his own head and reached for some napkins on the bar. Shoving them towards the stranger, he gave his own smile.

                "No worries, I just feel bad you're wearing your drink." Then, watching the man dab at his chest and stomach, Wonshik squinted. "We haven't met before have we?"

                The man lost his smile, shaking his head. As if alerted, Wonshik put his hands up.

                "Oh no, no. I promise I'm not hitting on you, I just… I'm getting this weird sense of déjà vu is all."

                The stranger's face drew a little tighter but he gave a tentative look. "No. I would have remembered you."

                Wonshik raised his eyebrows at that, laughing a little at the implication and sat back down, this time facing the man.

                "Well… do you want another one?" he asked, watching the man pause in wiping his chest down. His eyes were magnetic and icy, but not in the cold sense. More in the crystal sense and when his lips quirked, Wonshik was suddenly glad Hongbin was running late.

                "I'm Taekwoon," the man introduced himself.

                "Wonshik. What are you drinking?"

 

\- - - 

 

                "So you just moved here?"

                Taekwoon nodded, taking a sip of the beer he was not enjoying. He had never been a drinker and watching Wonshik finish his made him feel like he needed to prove something.

                "Ah, yes. About a week ago," Taekwoon said, forcing down a much larger sip. He tried to control his gag reflex before it gave him away.

                But this was worth it. He could smell Wonshik, he could stare into his face. He could see that dopey smile and the way it changed his face up close.

                "Oh wow," Wonshik laughed. "You are super new then. What part of town?"

                Skin bristling, Taekwoon noticed the other's face relaxed and he ran a hand through his hair.

                "I'm sorry, I'm asking too many questions. I'm just trying to pass the time," he admitted and a spike drove into Taekwoon's stomach. Did that mean Wonshik wasn't enjoying himself?

                "Over there by the park, the neighborhood across from the fire station."

                Picking an obscure part of town that he figured Wonshik wouldn't know kept Taekwoon calm. It was true, he had only been in the city a couple months but he had been all around Seoul to know the ins and outs of every street and thorough way.

                Wonshik squinted slightly, then picked up his drink. "Those are abandoned."

                Taekwoon felt his hair stand on end.

                "W-well—"

                "Ilsung Park neighborhoods have been deserted for like, the past few years. Did you…" Wonshik's head cocked. "Oh, are you flipping a house or something?"

                "Yes!"

                Chuckling, Wonshik shook his head and took the final swig of his beer.

                "Well don’t worry, I'm not going to try and buy up all the land if that's why you're being so weird about it."

                Taekwoon felt his face lift, both in relief but also amusement, really enjoying how Wonshik didn't seem to have much of a filter. It was almost like he had thick skin and wasn't used to people who were sensitive.

                The thought brought a shy twist to Taekwoon's lips.

                "But hey, I'm actually a contractor so…" Wonshik drawled, mouth curving. "I know I shouldn't be peddling but I have really great references."

                Taekwoon took a swift inhale, watching as Wonshik pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, this one skinnier compared to the one Taekwoon had stolen from him. And when he dug around before pinching the edge of a business card, the newly dyed brunette reminded himself to keep breathing.

                "Here's my card, you probably already have someone lined up but if they don't work out," Wonshik flashed another smile. "Give me a call."

                Thumb running over the glossy card which was simple and black, ivory embossed letters on the front boasting Wonshik's name and company. He specialized in electrical work.

                Biting his lips, Taekwoon finally looked up. Nodding softly, he started to speak.

                "Hey! Sorry we're late, this one left his ID back in the house so we had to turn around halfway here."

                Dark eyes flew to the two men who had suddenly appeared beside Wonshik, causing him to turn around. He greeted the two with familiar smiles and while one of them remained a mystery to Taekwoon, the one who had spoken was recognizable.

                He was the one Taekwoon had seen with Wonshik that night. The one pressed up against the door, hands in Wonshik's hair.

                Flushing red bloomed from his neck to his ears, the heat traveling to his face and Taekwoon suddenly stood.

                He held up the card, smiling tightly. "Thanks. And uh, thanks for the drink."

                Wonshik opened his mouth then closed it, returning the smile. "Oh… ok. Well, definitely. I mean, you're welcome. And seriously, keep that. You never know when you may need it."

                Taekwoon threw the other men a glance before slinking back through the crowd, hearing the last of Wonshik's companions.

                He heard the one asking who Taekwoon was.

                Squeezing his eyes shut, the brunette wanted to go back in the bar. Wanted to stare into Wonshik's calm eyes and hear his wonderful voice amid the chatter. He wanted to experience more of Wonshik's odd way of talking, the way he did so without really thinking and it must be amazing. It must be absolutely amazing getting to be near him in times where he was comfortable.

                Hopping onto his bike, Taekwoon grumbled slightly at the way the khakis bunched and the shirt stretched uncomfortably across his back. When he slid on his helmet, he groaned at the way his hair felt _so_ short.

                But Wonshik hadn't batted an eye at his appearance so Taekwoon would take the change as a win.

 

\- - - 

 

                "Who was that?" Hongbin asked, watching the stranger leave. His exit had been abrupt and something about him had given Hongbin a bad vibe.

                Jaehwan took the open stool, motioning to the empty one beside him. Hongbin didn't sit.

                "Wonshik, who was that?" he repeated himself and his best friend shrugged.

                "Just a guy," Wonshik answered easily. Then throwing Hongbin a look, he rolled his eyes. "What?"

                "I didn't like him."

                "Good thing he left then, huh?" Wonshik countered, turning towards Jaehwan, telling him to order so Hongbin would get distracted.


	4. Air

                Wonshik turned a right on the corner, pausing for a second. Then he turned left, looking down at the clock on his dashboard to see how much time he had to get to his latest job site.

                "20 minutes," he whispered beneath his breath, making the next turn.

                In the distance, Ilsung Park started to come into view, Wonshik's eyes scanning. Looking to his left, his vision bounced.

                The neighborhood was a shit hole, most of the houses dilapidated and inhabited by the homeless.

                The park was undergoing renovation and there was talks of including a strip mall. It was looking like a prime place to start buying land.

                And if he was a good business man, he would be passing out his card to anyone who was in the market.

                "Taekwoon was it?" Wonshik murmured to himself, then laughed. Circling back, he started to his original destination. They were getting ready to finish the job and as with most of his, it was coming down to the wire. So he was headed out first thing in the morning, wanting to make sure his To Do list became his Have To Do list.

                Wonshik could be a stickler for deadlines and that went for his subcontractors as well.

                With one last look in his rearview mirror at Ilsung Park, Wonshik drove down the street.

 

\- - - 

 

                Taekwoon stared from behind his midnight black visor.

                 They were arguing.

                Taekwoon watched from atop bike a couple houses down. But it was just past dusk, and the night was starting to turn blueblack, the ambient light from the houses not quite reaching him. He could watch undetected.

                Wonshik's friend was stalking to his car, making sure to slam his door loudly. Wonshik stood in the door way, both hands running through his hair. But he didn't chase, not even as the car idled in the driveway for another half minute. Waiting.

                Taekwoon felt the right side of his mouth quirk.

                Tires squealed as the car darted out into the street and off. Wonshik watched it leave before turning back into his house. The door echoed in the night.

                There was never a more right moment.

                Breathing in deep, Taekwoon slipped his phone out of his jacket. Quickly pulling up the contact list, he readily found Wonshik's number. Hesitating, he couldn't bring himself to press it just yet.

                To put on an act was easy for Taekwoon—he had been doing it his whole life. And he was good at it, very good at playing the part. But never had he felt so burdened by the consequence. One wrong word and Wonshik could disappear forever.

                At least, that's what it felt like.

                Tapping with his thumb, Taekwoon started a text.

               

                **TW** : Hi Wonshik, this is Taekwoon. We met at the bar last week—Ilsung Park neighborhood ring any bells?

               

                Swallowing, all he could do was wait.

                A light flicked on in Wonshik's house, then another and it was easy to see the young man's trek through his house. Suddenly, Taekwoon's phone vibrated in his hands, lips spreading.

 

                **WS** : Hey! I remember.

                **WS** : Its crazy. I just swung by there this morning.

**WS** : I think you might be on to something.

 

                Taekwoon's brow furrowed and he had to reread the text again, mistaking the last part and as he realized what Wonshik had actually said, the offended part of him swiftly settled into relief.

                It was not lost on him that Wonshik _remembered_ him.

               

                **TW** : We'll see about that.

                **TW** : I know this is out of the blue but you said I could use it if I needed it.

**WS** : That I did.

 

                 Swallowing around a sudden knot, Taekwoon's thumbs furiously typed.

 

**TW** : Is now an ok time to chat? I know it’s a little late but I just got off work and have a question.

                **WS** : Of course. Whats your ?

               

                Taekwoon bit on the inside of his cheek as he leaned back into his bike. His jacket held him tight and he felt wrapped up as he continued tapping.

 

                **TW** : It's an HVAC question, do you have any experience in that?

                **TW** : I'm sorry this is so random, just navigating in the dark over here :)

               

                There was a moment of silence and eyes jumped up to Wonshik's house. Now there was only one light on, the first floor lit though the blinds were closed so it was impossible to know which room.

 

                **WS** : No worries. I am here to help!

                **WS** : And I know good HVAC people. Do you need a referral? I have a guy I can get there as soon as tomorrow.

                **TW** : No, don't need it that soon. I just have a question on an estimate.

                **TW** : Don't want to get swindled. It seemed extra high. I'm not a pro but I've done my research.

                **WS** : I can appreciate that. What if I came and looked?

 

                Taekwoon grinned, his plan executed perfectly.

 

                **TW** : You don't mind?

                **WS** : Not at all. Im glad you texted.

**WS** : The universe is telling us something lol.

 

                The butterflies suddenly leapt into flight, Taekwoon's stomach twisting as he stared at his phone. Checking the time, his eyebrows raised. Revving his engine, he typed out a quick final text.

               

                **TW** : Thanks so much. Can I call you tomorrow to set up a good time?

               

                Putting his foot on the pedal, Taekwoon waited with bated breath.

 

                **WS** : Yeah.

                **WS** : What about dinner?

 

                Taekwoon stared at the phone in his hands, then, lifted his eyes to the house just down the street. Wonshik was sitting there, texting him, asking him to dinner in that house.

                Pocketing his phone, Taekwoon put both hands on the handles, zipping off with an indulgent smile splitting his face.

 

\- - - 

 

                "What do you need with these anyways?"

                Sanghyuk was handing over the keys, the ones that belonged to a house across from Ilsung Park. It had taken him a week to find, but Taekwoon had faith in his connect. It was what the younger man was known for, after all.

                In reply, Taekwoon handed over the jewelry he had lifted. It was a compilation from two or three burglaries, all from Gangnam where people wore conspicuous consumptions of money on their hands and wrists so coming up with the fee for Sanghyuk's hard work was easy.

                It was also risky, the rich having a lot more to lose and Taekwoon couldn't do those types of crimes very often. If he did, he'd have to leave town pretty quickly.

                He kind of liked Seoul.

                Wiping his smile from his face, he took the keys then looked to the corner where Sanghyuk's goon watched them. Then he pinned eyes on the young man.

                "And it's a good one? No junkies, no life threatening hazards?"

                Sanghyuk laughed at that. "I mean, I can't promise you won't get asbestos but if you're asking if you're going to fall through the floor, then no. No life threatening hazards."

                Taekwoon appreciated the humor.

                Especially since he was in such a good mood.

                He left that night with the keys to his 'new' house and plans with Wonshik the next night.

                Taekwoon was in a really good mood.

 

\- - - 

 

                Wonshik had gelled his hair, wondering distantly why he had primped when all he was doing was surveying a job. Of course, Taekwoon hadn't asked for his work, simply his help but Wonshik would see if he could get some type of job out of it.

                He still didn't know why he had gelled his hair, though.

                Sitting outside of the house Taekwoon had given him directions to, Wonshik finally got out of his truck. He didn't see any other cars parked along the street, which made sense, but did that mean that Taekwoon hadn't arrived yet?

                Checking his phone for the time, he saw Taekwoon's latest message.

               

                **TW** : Be there in 5. Feel free to look around.

 

                Wonshik's brows furrowed but he shrugged, wandering up to the front door, leaning over to try to look through a dusty window.

                The house's foundation looked sound, the screen door hanging on by a hinge but the wood door hadn't been damaged too badly. The windows looked dated and if the cement was anything to judge, it looked to be about a half century old.

                Walking around the side, his electrician's mind ran away with him as he checked outlets and where the wiring came out and went in. Then he made himself laugh, the six o'clock sun starting to descend.

                "Wonshik, are you here?"

                Turning around, Wonshik realized the spaces between houses was rather tight and he had wandered pretty far when he heard Taekwoon's call.

                Walking towards the front, Wonshik donned an easy smile as he turned the corner.

                "Hey—"

                Eyes widening, Wonshik suddenly remembered why he had gelled his hair.

                Taekwoon was gorgeous and while his memory had pieced together his image based on the dark amber lights of the bar, something had told him to look nice. Because Taekwoon was pretty good looking.

                And he had a really comforting smile.

                "Sorry about that, I hope you weren't here for too long," he said softly.

                Wonshik shook his head, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Just kinda nerded out, looking at your connections. You're gonna need someone who knows what they're doing. When people built houses like this in the 1950s, they weren't thinking of us and all the work we'd have to do."

                Taekwoon laughed, though his forehead bunched slightly. "So… not good, huh?"

                "Let's see what the inside looks like."

 

\- - -

 

                Taekwoon watched Wonshik's every move, saved to memory as he walked slow but purposefully, like there wasn't a step that wasn't thought out first. The way he pointed and explained things, Taekwoon nodded because he understood.

                Despite the fact that this was all a deception, Taekwoon found himself enjoying Wonshik's advice. He certainly knew what he was doing.

                Taekwoon caught his eyes, looking away with a coy smile. Wonshik chuckled lightly, also looking the other way.

                "So what is your recommendation?" Taekwoon asked as they started out the house, the setting sun providing some light. With no lights, it had started getting dark pretty quickly inside the abandoned house and when they emerged, it felt like a plug was shoved into a socket.

                The orange glimmer painted the pair warm and Taekwoon sighed.

                "Well…"

                Taekwoon snorted. "You can be honest."

                Wonshik laughed, a hand raising to cover his mouth. "There's a lot."

                There was a lone car that drove down the street, the park's large fluorescent lights snapping on. Taekwoon took a slow step towards the street.

                "And?"

                Wonshik shrugged, crossing his arms. "I wanna be nice."

                "I'd like honest." After a moment, Taekwoon turned his head towards the other. "I can take it."

                Eyes lit with sincerity and Wonshik nodded slowly. "I'm not sure who you're using but you need a project manager. This is a major renovation and while it takes guts to take this on, you're going to be pissing your money away if you don't find someone who can do it right the first time."

                As they walked down the sidewalk, Taekwoon jammed his hands in his pockets. "And I'm guessing that's you?"

                "Not necessarily," Wonshik replied, also putting his hands in his pockets. "But you seem like a good person, I'd hate for you to get dicked over."

                Watching from the corner of his eye, Taekwoon almost believed those words.

                He wasn't a good person—he did bad things. But Wonshik was looking at him like he meant it, and for a second, Taekwoon wanted to believe those words.

                "Would you mind if I did some shopping around for you?" Wonshik offered, and he almost looked like he wanted to pitch him. Taekwoon smiled.

                "I would appreciate that. And," he said pointedly, stopping in front of Wonshik's large truck. "I'll pay for your time."

                Hands coming up, Wonshik shook his head. "No, not this part. I… Like I said, I would hate to see you taken advantage of."

                Taekwoon quelled his smile. "Says the stranger."

                Wonshik grinned, eyes glinting in the beginning of night. "We can change that."


End file.
